


Someday

by thesaturnyear



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Pre-Slash, Spoilers for Episode 1x08: Valediction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3438179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaturnyear/pseuds/thesaturnyear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Peggy and Angie spend their first evening in their new home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday

The scent hits Peggy's nose as soon as she opens the door - something cooking, with cheese and tomatoes. 

"Angie?" she calls out. There's no answer and she realizes that the house is so large Angie can't possibly have heard her. She hangs up her coat then checks her face in the mirror in the hall. She's not ready, just yet, to tell Angie all about Steve. But if Angie can tell she's been crying she'll ask what's wrong, her face full of care and concern, and Peggy knows she won't be able to hold it together when Angie's looking at her that way. She touches up her powder, then makes her way down the hall, through the sitting room, then the dining room, until she finally reaches the kitchen. 

Angie is bent over the stove, sleeves rolled up and apron tied around her waist, stirring something in a big pot. 

"Angie, what-" she starts but Angie cuts her off.

"Oh, hey, Peg! The kitchen came fully stocked, so I hope you like chicken parm." 

"It smells delicious." She inhales deeply, letting the wonderful scent fill her nostrils. She can't remember the last time she had a home cooked meal. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Mm, it's almost ready. Set the table, will ya?"

Peggy obliges, getting out plates, forks, and knives. She starts to go to the dining room, then changes her mind and sets them out on the small breakfast table in the corner of the kitchen. The dining room feels too large and formal for just the two of them, and she’d rather stay in the cozy warmth of the kitchen. A moment later Angie brings over a skillet full of chicken cutlets, cheese still sizzling on top, and puts two on each of their plates. She takes the pan back to the stove and comes back with two bowls, one piled high with spaghetti and the other full of bright red sauce. She serves these as well, dishing hearty portions onto both plates. Peggy's about to tuck in when Angie disappears a second time. Peggy watches her back as she takes off the apron, then picks up a bottle from the end of the counter.

"There's wine too," Angie says excitedly, showing Peggy the bottle of Cabernet she's chosen from Howard's collection. "A whole cellar full!" 

Peggy snorts. "Good old Howard." Angie doesn’t know that this house is where he used to entertain his conquests, and of course it comes equipped with a fully-stocked wine cellar. There’s probably more liquor than they could ever consume stashed throughout the place as well.

Angie’s looking at her with a puzzled expression on her face. “Did you and him ever…?”

“Ha!” Peggy can’t help the burst of laughter. “Goodness, no. That’s not to say he didn’t try, but I have no desire to be a name on Howard’s list.” 

Angie’s lips curl into a smile and she turns to get two wine glasses from the cupboard. Peggy uncorks the bottle and pours them each a full glass and they settle in to the meal.

The chicken is crisp on the outside and juicy on the inside, the pasta al dente, and the sauce simply divine. Peggy hasn’t had a meal like this in ages, or possibly ever, and she lets out a groan as the flavors mingle perfectly on her tongue. 

“Angie, this is exquisite,” she says around a mouthful of spaghetti. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“My Ma. I’m the only girl, so I spent a lot of time helping her in the kitchen.”

“Well, I hope you don’t mind cooking for us on occasion. I’m rather useless in the kitchen unless what I’m cooking comes from a rations packet, and then who wants to eat it anyway?” 

Peggy makes a face, remembering all the terrible canned beef and dry crackers she ate during the war.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all! I just hope you like Italian food because that’s all I know how to make.” 

Angie shrugs, and Peggy notices how pretty she looks, her blue eyes shining over cheeks flushed pink.

“If all of it tastes as good as this, Angie, I could eat Italian food every day for the rest of my life.” 

Angie’s cheeks flush pinker still, and she averts her gaze back down to her plate.

+++

Peggy polishes off her supper, mopping up the rest of the sauce with a piece of bread, and swallows the last of her wine. She’s had two, or was it three, glasses, and between that and her full stomach she’s feeling rather warm and sleepy.

“Angie, thank you again for the delicious meal. I needed that, after the few days I've had.”

“My pleasure, English,” Angie grins. She starts gathering up the empty plates and takes them to the sink, and Peggy follows behind with the glasses.

“Oh let’s not do that now,” she says, stepping between Angie and the sink full of dishes. “You cooked, I’ll do the washing up. But in the morning, I’m wrecked!” 

“We best get you to bed then, little lady.” Angie does her best John Wayne impression and Peggy plays along, taking the arm that Angie offers and letting her lead her toward the stairs.

“I chose a bedroom already, I hope that’s okay,” Angie says as they climb. “But if you want the one I picked, I’m happy to switch. They’re all amazing!” 

Angie’s enthusiasm is infectious and Peggy feels light, even though she’s exhausted. 

“I’m sure I can manage with one of the other five,” she quips.

“Y’know,” Angie says, excitement bubbling up again, “we could sleep in a different room every night for a week if we wanted to. That sofa downstairs is as comfy as any bed I’ve ever had.”

Peggy imagines Angie, alone in this big house, dashing from room to room and bouncing on all the furniture like a giddy schoolgirl. 

“I’m glad you like it here so much,” she says as they step into the second floor hallway. Her hand is still resting in the crook of Angie's arm and she gives it a squeeze.

“Are you kidding?” Angie turns to face her. “This is like a fairytale come true. I feel like Cinderella after she married the Prince.” 

The way Angie looks at her makes her heart ache.

“Well, Cinderella,” Peggy teases, “which bedroom did you choose?”

Angie leads her to a room three doors down on the left. It’s light and airy, with pale blue curtains and a four-poster bed piled with fluffy white pillows. It fits Angie perfectly. 

“The one across the hall’s my second favorite,” Angie says, pointing to the door directly opposite, “but the bed in this one won me over.” 

As if to emphasize her point, she glides over and flops onto the bed. The duvet is so stuffed that she sinks down until she’s half hidden by it. 

“We might lose you in all those pillows,” Peggy laughs.

“It’s like laying on a cloud,” Angie says from somewhere within the blankets. “Come on, Pegs, you gotta try it.”

Peggy shakes her head, but steps over to the bed and sits on its edge before falling onto her back next to Angie. It does feel like being on a cloud, and she closes her eyes and breathes in the scent of clean linens mixed with rose and lavender perfumes. It’s quiet except for the soft ticking of a clock and Angie’s even breathing and she feels herself start to doze off so she sits up, stifling a yawn. It won’t do to evict Angie from her favorite bed on their first night as housemates.

“It does feel like a cloud,” Peggy says, and Angie sits up too, “but I really must get to my own bed before I fall right asleep in yours. We’ll explore the house together tomorrow, and you can show me all your favorite parts."

She gives Angie a knowing smile and stands to go. She's almost to the door before Angie calls her name.

"Pegs?" 

She turns around to see Angie still sitting on the bed, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Which room are you gonna take? Y'know, just in case I need to find you."

Peggy takes a step back into the room and Angie stands to meet her. 

"I'll take the one across the hall, since you say it's the second best," she says, not missing the look of relief that passes over Angie's face. "You are safe here, though. You know that, right?" 

"Oh, I know that. It's just... this house is so big, and with just us here... I'm not used to having so much empty space around me." 

"Well, I'll be right across there, if you need me," Peggy says, giving Angie's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"And I'll be right here in my cloud bed, if you need me," Angie says, squeezing back.

Peggy's heart gets that achy feeling again, and without thinking she leans in and presses a kiss to Angie's cheek. 

"Goodnight, Angie," she says, pulling back just in time to catch the surprised look on Angie's face. 

"'Night, English," Angie replies with a smirk.

+++

Peggy changes and washes up quickly. She's tired right down to her bones and wants nothing more than a good night's sleep. As she crawls into bed, she hears the crackle of a radio being turned on in Angie's room. There's a moment of static and then an old Bing Crosby tune comes in clear, just barely audible through the two closed doors. Then she hears another, higher, voice come in over it and realizes that Angie is softly singing along. She burrows down into the blankets and listens, and her last thought before she falls asleep is that it sounds like home.


End file.
